


Red on White Roses

by SMAfelli



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Artist Gerard Way, Asshole Frank Iero, Awkward Mikey Way, Basement Gerard Way, Flashbacks, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pencey Prep - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, September 11 Attacks, Shy Frank Iero, Vampire Gerard Way, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-12 15:45:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13550484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMAfelli/pseuds/SMAfelli
Summary: The story starts off in the early 2000's, where Gerard Way is a starving comic book artist, and also happens to be a troubled creature of the night. Once the terrible events of September 11th hit, Gerard feels its finally been long enough, and he needs to get out there. One by one, he gathers the members that eventually become members of My Chemical Romance, but Frank Iero manages to stand out to him through the bands quickly rising reign in the rock industry, and he lives in constant fear of one thing after the other. How will he live like this?





	1. Prologue[Part 1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an eventful night, Gerard decides coffee is more important than contemplating his blood-lust and meets a talented man with a afro

His teeth grazed over her skin, dry and untouched by his own tongue. It was like dry bone brushing against the softest patch of ground, and the sensitivity of the area became clear when the girl beneath him squirmed and gasped. He let out a growly grunt, digging his stress-bitten nails into her shoulder and keeping her in place. She was already having those muscle spasms he was-surprisingly dreadfully-familiar with. Convulsing and letting out soft and loud moans alike, while he was the exact opposite. Unerect, unpleased, and interested in nothing other than what was inside of her. 

"Gee! Oh, Gee." She groaned, a little too close to his ear for comfort, but he hid his shuddering reaction and faked a moan in response. His hands suddenly snapped upward, pushing her head up and choking her softly. He just wanted to get this over with, and her smell was quite literally starving him. Ignoring every satisfited noise coming from her once again, he lifted his head up and let his lip instinctively curl back. He revealed his jagged teeth, all uneven yet somehow bright white, all but his canines that were slowly rising from the gums. Before the poor lass beneath him realized what was going on, his grip on her neck tightened and he leaned down, his chin gently brushing past her ear lobe. 

"Je suis terriblement désolé," He said, running his tongue over the part of her neck that was just barely exposed before pulling back and sinking his teeth into it, choking her harder to mute her screaming. He went on and on with this for minutes, even after she had-The black haired fiend paused and checked the girls pulse with his free hand-Noteably passed out, he continued to drink until he was satisfied. Once that happened, he unclenched his hand from her throat and brought himself to his feet, thick red substance dripping from the corners of his mouth.  
He pulled his arms above his head, yawning into a casual stretch as he looked down at what he had done, not exactly having a remorseful look but not exactly sporting a bland look. Even he wasn't very sure where he was. He glanced around the establishment, taking in the scenery very closely. It seemed to be an old unused building, perhaps once used as a sort of factory or manufacturing warehouse. Not recently built, he thought as he looked at the creaky looking boards that were sloppily hammered here and there. An ombre haired female sprawled out on a left behind table, still twitchy, but breathing. He breathed in and hummed out a mediocre "hm." 

Normally, he would've just drained someone completely, but he had managed to find sympathy (or pity) for this girl, whos name he believed to be was "Carmen." From what she had drunkenly told him at the bar she'd met him at just hours before, she had a tough life, working at a restaraunt as a minimum wage payed waiter, still living with her ass of a father up into her ripe year of 22, and how she needed what she called "release". He'd gradually agreed, and even then he knew this would be one of the lucky victims he wouldn't kill completely, and he put himself under the persona of a french man, new to the states under the name Louis. He doubted the girl would even remember him draining her, as he still took a rather good amount, but he always had to be careful.  
He exagerated a sigh, and then suddenly gathered up all of the girls clothes he had viciously thrown off before, and he delicately dressed her like a doll one by one. He wasn't feeling any sort of sexual pleasure doing this, in fact he hadn't even felt any before. Over the past centuries, he came to the conclusion long ago that he had a preferance for males. He wasn't sure where Carmen lived, and he cursed at himself mentally for not asking beforehand, so he decided to call and check out a hotel room, sneak her in there, and leave her there to hopefully wake up in a dazed and forgetful state. 

Gerard Arthur Way, born April 9th 1777, was annoyingly neutral, and annoyingly controlling when it came to most things. Turned at the age of 24, he had a way of blending into a crowd all the while still looking annoyingly attractive and standing out. That was one sentence that could be used to describe him on multiple occasions. Annoyingly _____. (He tried not to make it seem like it, but he forced that attitude. He was arguably more awkward than his brother at the time). He had been styling his hair long and messy for years, but recently he had cut it in a sort of "spiked" style. So 2001.

He wasn't the most social butterfly, but he didn't have to be. No need, he thought to himself as he slapped a good amount of cash on the front desk of the hotels front desk, his nose crinkling up a bit at the realization that nobody seemed to be at the desk. One could just come in and take all of the money in the register then and there. He didn't concern himself too much after that, but more or less shrugged it off and left the building. Where to now? He wasn't sure. Now that he'd gotten his dose of "bodily fluids", he felt no need to go out and eat. His lips involuntarily smacked together once he thought about getting coffee, though. He couldn't necessarily live off of the caffeine filled drink, but damn did he love it. He lifted his hand up and glanced at a simple watch that grasped onto his wrist. The time was exactly 8:28. The shop must be close to closing. He drew in a breath and from there on made his way to the shop, barely thinking of the girl from the nights earlier events.

While he was walking, he felt an eery feeling surround him, and he did not like that one bit. He glanced behind him at every suspicious feeling, but found nothing but the citys streets and lights mocking him. His tongue pressed against his top teeth and he let out an annoyed hiss to himself, before he turned around and rammed right into a figure. The two of them both let out a grunt, stepping back quickly. "Oh, I'm sorry!" The figure, who he assumed to be a male with a high pitched voice, said. Gerard looked up and eyed the man for a moment, hazel eyes sparking with interest. He didn't have a chiseled face, but his features stood out quite a bit, including his little bush of hair that seemed to be cut just recently. "Oh no, it's all good-Oh damn, are you alright?" Gerard said, glancing down at the mess of coffee that was spilled over the Fro-boy's shirt. The coffee must have cooled down VERY fast, because the other male was clearly cringing at the feeling. "N-nah, its alright. I can just walk home and change. No biggie." He said, but Gerard felt just plain rude. He must've just bought that coffee, and if he knew he was in Fro-boy's place, he would be livid. "I can buy you another coffee, I'd feel bad if I didn't," Gerard said, as more of a statement than a question. "Whats your name?" He then added on before Fro could protest. "I-Well, the names Ray. Ray Toro, if you wanna be formal." Ray answered, instantly knowing he had to give in no matter how polite he wanted to be, but he was already growing a genuine liking to the pale man. 

"Toro. Nice. Well, my names Gerard Way." Gerard said, grinning dumbly. He wasn't planning on killing or harming this human in any way. He wasn't a complete tyrant. Ray emitted one of the most sudden auras of niceness he had felt, and the feeling was admittedly foreign to him. "C'mon, I wasn't kidding about the coffee. Moneys not an issue." Gerard said, motioning Ray to follow him. While it only took about 10 minutes to walk to the coffee shop, Gerard found out he had a lot in common with Ray. They both liked rock and punk bands of all sorts, and he found out that Ray played guitar, which interested him quite a bit. "Oh, thats awesome!" Gerard had exclaimed like an excited kid. "I've always wanted to play guitar, but I'm honestly not the best." Gerard said, causing Ray to shoot a small smile at him. "I'm sure your amazing. I'd love to jam out with you sometime-If you do that sort of thing." Ray said simply, but Gerard was still bouncier than anyone would expect a "murderous" vampire to be. But, he answered with a shrug and a mumbled "maybe" as they walked into the shop and up to the register. The barista that was standing there, boredly tapping her uncomftorably long poorly pained nails on the desk. When she looked up at him and Ray, she looked annoyed, maybe for the fact that Ray was coming in a second time. When she spotted Rays slowly drying coffee stain, her annoyed look hardly lifted, though. "What'chya want?" She asked, Jersey accent thick as she chewed on some sort of taffy or gum. 

"Uh, I'll just get a simple chocolate chip frappe if thats alright." Ray suddenly said, and then turned to Gerard, who was eyeing the menu. He seemed humorously focused until his eyes fell onto the barista, whos hard look nearly peirced his non existant soul. He shot back the look, causing her to straighten her posture in surprise. "Vanilla iced coffee. Whipped cream." Was all he said, and she turned to make it without a nod or anything, but he did swear she rolled her eyes when she turned her head. Ray was looking at him, biting back a fit of laughter at Gerards agression when it came to coffee. "I can't thank you enough for getting me another coffee" Ray decided to say instead, and Gerards small grin returned to his face. "Not a problem, not a problem at all." Gerard said, and then the two stayed in a minute of comftorable silence before the barista handed them their drinks and Gerard handed his money over. The barista eyed him suspiciously before she went back to her own business, earning a scoff from Gerard as he and Ray sat down.  
"Your a weird guy, Gerard," Ray said, taking a sip of his frappe. "Is that a good thing?" Gerard raised an eyebrow, looking down at his iced coffee, mostly checking if the barista had spitted in it or poisoned it in some way. He wouldn't be surprised. "Well, I think for the most part it is." He chuckled and looked up. "Hey, do you have a phone number? I'd still be up for a jam session." Gerard quickly nodded in response, taking a sip of his iced coffee, holding up a "one second" sign. He pulled back from the drink and tried hard to remember his number. He DID have one, but barely had any use for it. "609-455-5566" He said slowly, while Ray quickly scribbled it down on a napkin. "Perfect!"

Gerard smiled once more, and was quickly drawn out of thoughts by someone shouting his name. "Gerard Way? Is there a Gerard Way in the shop?" His head turned, and it was some man standing by the counter, holding a blocky phone in his hand. 

Gerard and Ray looked at eachother in confusion, but Ray quickly said "I should be heading home. I see some Taxis out there. I'll talk to ya later Gerard." The curly haired man said, and quickly headed off after that. Gerard was a bit dissapointed that he had left at that specific moment, but he considered the fact that Ray might have a family that would be concerned for him if he wasn't back at a certain time. "Gerard Way?" The man shouted again, breaking him out of his thoughts to stand up and walk to the counter. "Uh, yes? That'd be me." Gerard said, biting his lower lip rather lightly. The stressed looking man mouthed something like "It's for you" and handed the phone to him. As soon as Gerard put it up to his ear, he was met by a panic sounding Mikey. Oh dear, Mikey Way. How did he forget about his own brother? "Gerard? Thats you right?" Mikey spoke calm as ever, but there was a twinge of relief in his voice. "Mom's been looking for you, she even threatened to throw away some of the comics you were working on-," Gerard hadn't noticed this, but he was unconciously rubbing his temples. "I knew you'd be at the coffee shop so I called their number." He added on, answering the question Gerard was about to ask anyways. "Look, I'll be home in a bit. Tell her that." Gerard said, hanging up before Mikey could say anything else. 

Great. Fan-fucking-tastic, he thought. What a miserable life he lived. He was a starving artist with no chance of making it in the comic industry at the time, living in his moms basement, and when he wasn't doing that he was quite literally sucking the life out of people and drinking coffee and junk food. He handed the phone back to the man, who he assumed to be a manager of some sort, ignoring the damned glare of the barista, and walked out of the shop. "What the hell am I going to do with myself?" He asked, shaking his head to himself.


	2. Prologue[Part 2/Final]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is woken up by his brother and they have a passive agressive conversation on Gerards starving artisthood and loner tendencies

Gerard had made it home safe that night, and now it was the morning. He had managed to sneak down into the basement when he came home without being nagged by his mother or his brother, and he decided to draw for an hour or so. Now he was passed out on his desk, the fingers on his right hand softly trapping a pencil inbetween them, twitching every so often. In his left hand he was holding a now cold cup of coffee, his grip loose. Footsteps became audible and caused the sleeping Gerard to stir, and then suddenly his dim-lights were turned on by a figure. "Oh god," it spoke, causing Gerards bloodshot eyes to burst open. Gerard let out a loud groan when the figure came into view, turning on the little lamp that was on his desk. It was the one, the only, Mikey Way.  
"Look at the little bloodsucker sleeping," Mikey joked, a toothy smile appearing on his face. Gerard didn't have enough conciousness yet to be surprised at his kins rare smile, and he let out another whiny groan. "It makes me feel better *mentally*, shithead." Gerard half-joked back, sitting up and looking at Mikey. His back was aching, but he said nothing of it. Mikey started to make way to the little couch that was seated in the basement, making himself comftorable and running his fingers along the dusted arm of it. "You should've talked to mom last night, she was worried sick," He explained, but Gerard only turned and grunted in response. Mikey frowned. "I ended up making a new friend last night," Gerard finally responded, feeling odd for saying the word "friend". "Or an acquaintance rather." He added on, and even though he wasn't facing him, he could sense his brothers curiousity.

"Ray Toro, was his name. I thought we'd all get along, ya know?" Gerard said, pointing at a note that he had tiredly placed on the wall when he came home. "He plays guitar 'n all that shit-I got his number right there." Finally, Gerard turned to Mikey, who unsurprisingly looked interested. "Sounds like a cool guy-But are you sure you didn't go on a date with him?" Mikey genuinely asked, causing Gerard to twitch and shake his head. "No. I don't think he's that kind of guy." He replied, and Mikey smiled. "Cool, lets call him," Mikey said, getting up. "Wait-No-What time is it?" Gerard asked frantically. He didn't want to seem that desperate for a friend (though, he really was), especially if it was early in the morning. Mikey halted and scoffed at him, looking at the clock crookedly placed on the wall. "Nine thirty-four" He answered matter-of-factly, his eyes flickering back to see a disortiented and slightly annoyed Gerard. "Yeah, no, way too early bud." Gerard said, standing up and running a hand through his snarly hair. Mikey shrugged and adjusted his glasses, glancing around his room, and he seemingly decided to transition into another topic.

"Do you ever get out?" Mikey asked, motioning to the dozens of drawings on the walls. Sketches, paintings, unfinished paintings and sketches, simple drawings, comic panels, all things alike, littered the walls. Gerard took slight offense to that, but he shrugged in defeat. What was the point in going out for any other reason than to get fresh blood on the occasion? He'd seen it all in the outside world, or at least he thought. With art, he could make worlds that he would never see in his next fifty or hundred years of living. Things nobody could even imagine. He wasn't sure if his mortal brother would ever get that, so he answered with a simple "I just like drawing." Mikey raised an eyebrow, but didn't question the long silence from his brother. "Well, you know what-I'm going to give you some money and your going to go out. Got it?" He announced, crossing his arms and grinning slightly. Gerards eyes furrowed and he opened his mouth to protest. He had snagged plenty of money from the almost-monthly victims he had. Other than the girl from the night before. Actually, maybe he took her wallet.

"Don't you dare try to argue with me, I'm giving you the money, and your going to do whatever the hell you want with it," Mikey said, pulling a few bucks from his pocket and handing it to him. "Mikey, I-" He paused and drew in a breath, knowing he wouldn't let him reject the offer, so he gave in. "I'll pay you back." But even at this, Mikey shook his head. "My jobs well paying, I can make this up in no time." He said, giving an exagerated and awkward thumbs up. "You work at Barnes and Noble," Gerard snorted, and Mikeys face went a light shade of red. "Go outside, asshole!" He said, and quite literally started to shove Gerard upstairs. 

Before he knew it, he was upstairs, and almost immedeately was face to face with his mother. "Oh-Mom, hi," Gerard greeted and Mikey backed off a bit. He wasn't sure if he was in for it for not telling his mom he was safe and sound the night before, but he prepared himself. "Oh, Gee-You have to tell me when you run off and do God-Fucking-Knows-What," She said, her voice soft but her words sounded almost threatening. Gerard could hear Mikey snickering like an annoying kid in the background, but he stayed facing his mom and nodded slowly in understanding. "Are you heading somewhere now?" She asked, eyeing the two of them. "Actually, Gerard was just about to go out." Mikey replied, and Gerard held back an annoyed groan. "It's about time, huh? Where to?" His mom asked, her expression softening. "I'm-I'm not really sure yet. Just gonna go out," He said slowly, and his mom blinked at him a few times before letting out a soft laugh. "Have fun then, Gee" She said, shuffling out of the way and allowing him to leave. Mikey gave him a little shove and with that, he was on his way to the door and to the outside world.

Classic little brother.


	3. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter will contain the 9/11 terrorist attacks, so be prepared. No disrespect is meant to anyone personally involved in the attacks**  
>  In which Gerard meets an old friend and by the end of the day has a band started and meets someone who will fuck him over for the next 12 years

About 7 months after that day, it had been pretty eventful. Mikey ended up calling Ray when Gerard was confusingly walking around town and spending his brothers money, and after Gerard came home to see Ray and Mikey hanging out in the basement, a guitar in Ray's hand, they all hit it off. Gerard, who was inspired by Ray, ended up joining a few bands and even excluded his art career for the time. Ray was even playing in one with him that only lasted about three months. After that ended, he joined a band that kicked him out for his poor guitar skills, and that was when he decided that he probably did belong dwelling in a basement with art supplies, and so he gladly went back to that lifestyle. He had even snagged an internship at Cartoon Network, which allowed for him to not have to go on monthly sprees of draining the life out of people and taking their wallets. Now that he thought about it, that sounded insane, but it was just the way he had to live.

Now he had the money to buy blood from someone online who he admittedly thought was shady and anonymous, but nontheless, it was fresh and not full of STD's so he tried not to think on it too much. He snapped out of his thoughts and let out a moan, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He was sat in the same desk, the same chair, and in the same basement as he was sat in all those months ago, but now he was drawing something for actual money. See, his intern job was basically just drawing designs for upcoming shows and sending it to the company for just a bit over minimum wage, but it was still better than working in retail or something god awful like that. He, for some reason, was running out of ideas for this particular character. It was just your classic dog cartoon character, but it was very much stressing him out. "Maybe I just need a break," He said aloud to himself, bringing his hands down to the desk and cracking his knuckles. He couldn't afford to get art block these days. He stood up and his hands instinctively grasped onto a cup of coffee he had been taking tiny sips of for the past hours, and he hissed at how cold it was.

Upstairs it is then, he thought. He looked over at a little minifridge next to his desk and quickly kneeled down next to it and sighing. There was a combination on it. He had to put a combination on it. As he started to work his fingers on the combination, he wondered what his mom would do if she saw that he had a fridge full of blood packets. She knew about his vampirism, and when she did, it took her over a year to stop being scared of him, and if she knew he had an entire minifridge full of blood, she would probably have an aneurysm and kick him out. Finally, he opened the lock and then opened the fridge. He poured the rest of his coffee into a trash can, and then grabbed one of the packets and squirted just enough of it into the coffee cup. He gagged at the sight. He'd been drinking blood for 3 or 4 years now, and he still couldn't think about it too much. He then locked up the packet again and went upstairs into the kitchen, where warm coffee had already warmly greeted him.

He smiled and grabbed the handle of the coffee pot and poured it into his mug, ignoring how the red grossly stained the brown liquid, humming nonsense to himself as he mixed some milk in. He stopped his humming when he heard distant sobs and his head turned to the side. The sobbing continued. "Uh," He choked out and went silent. With no response to his confused reaction, he decided to check it out himself. Coffee in hand, eyes baggy and wide, he left the kitchen in a rush. Was Mikey crying? Had something bad happened? Was that his mother? The thoughts made him walk faster through the hall until he reached the living room, where it sure seemed it was coming from. He could see a silouhette of his mom in the living room chair, and she was the source of the crying, and there Mikey was, standing next to her and trying to comfort her. Gerards face dropped to a frown. Suddenly, Mikey turned to look at Gerard and something about his expression motioned him to come forward.  
As Gerard walked forward, the sounds coming from the TV became more apparent, and it took a moment for his brain to click on what was happening. On the TV, the world trade center. Collapsed. People were dead. Dozens. From what was being explained on the TV, hundreds even. Gerard nearly dropped his coffee, and he was sent into a state of shock. He looked over to his mother and Mikey and finally snapped out of it and joined in on the comforting and disbelief.

That night, they were there for hours, staring at the TV as they announced more and more deaths. Gerard felt empty, and once he couldn't watch anymore, he left. He went downstairs and just sat there, alone and confused in his chair. Huge tradgedies happened all the time but this... Never in Gerards lifetime had he seen something like that. He was drained. He didn't know what to do. It was morning time, yet he had no energy to do anything now, and so, he fell asleep.

But the motivation withdrawls didn't go away after that day, or that week. Everytime Gerard tried to pick up a pencil and write, he couldn't. He had no idea what to do. About a week after the attacks, he lay on the little couch that resided in his room, and he stared at a fragment of lined paper he had on his lap blankly. He thought to himself "What the hell am I doing with myself?" And he glanced around his room. All of the drawings he had that involved never before seen things, and he lived in the real world. The world where shit like this happens. Things that should never be seen. He turned to look at the lined paper again, and something in him stirred. What the hell did he think he was going to get out of being some artist for an endless amount of years, wasting his life, when he could be doing something.. Helping people in times like this. His pencil started to move and write words. He could help people who felt as bad as he did. He wrote more. He could do something right. He feebly smiled to himself, and before he knew it, he was doing just that.

He had been cooped in his basement for a few days after that, only he wasn't drawing. He was working on music. He had become a powerhouse of just write, write, write, and the fact that his words could maybe even help people..It made him tear up a bit. Maybe it was far-fetched, but to him, it was a coping mechanism. He was close to wrapping up a song that he had rightfully named Skylines and Turnstiles when he heard the creaky footsteps and chattering of Mikey and a voice he didn't recognize. Gerards nose scrunched and he sat up, and once Mikey and the owner of the unfamiliar voice appeared at the end of the stairs, he grinned. It was Mikey and Matt Pelissier. Matt had always been a good friend of Gerards, but they hadn't spoken in.. Well, from what he recalled, since he had been turned. Mikey said something inaudible to Matt with a smile before he turned and went back upstairs. "Matt! How are you doing, dude?" He asked, still grinning. "I'm doing amazing! I mean, I haven't seen you since we moved and I got enough money to move out of my parents house and I knew I had to stop by. How are things?" He asked and sat down on the couch after Gerard motioned for him to do so. "A lots happened," Gerard admitted, frowning for a second. "I've been doing art for years now and I've been working with Cartoon Network as an intern," he explained, and then the thought hit him that he hadn't actually been working for days. Matt looked only a little impressed. "I've been working on something else and I-Well, since last week happened I've felt like I can do a lot more than drawing, you know? I havent checked my email. I've probably been fired from my internship but I don't mind." Gerard started to go on, not afraid to vent to an old friend he hadn't seen in years. At this statement, Matt blinked a few times and thoughtfully sighed, but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, times are tough. What've you been working on, man?" He asked. Through the corner of Gerards eye, he could see Matt staring at the many drawings on the wall in awe. "Well-It's kind of stupid but you might understand. You're a drummer, right?" Gerard asked, and Matts gaze returned to him and he nodded. "Well, what do you think about this?" Gerard asked and handed what he hoped to be the final draft of a song he had personally titled "Skylines and Turnstiles". Matt read over it for about a full minute until he looked up at Gerard, one of the happiest grins Gerard had ever seen planted on his face. "Gerard! This shit is-This is great! You wanna know what I think?" Matt said, scanning over the paper again, not noticing the flattered Gerard sat in front of him, thankfully. "I think you could make something out of this. I know you have a great singing voice," He went on, and Gerard slowly started to pick up on what he was suggesting. "Have you ever considered making a band?" Matt said, and Gerard shook his head in silence. Even though he had never considered it, the thought of it surprisingly gave him an unfamiliar happiness. The type of happiness he had with art before he realized that he wasn't going anywhere with it. "I think you should. I can bring my drum kit over here. Do you know any musicians around this town?" Matt asked, and for some reason Gerard was still processing this. "Oh yeah-My buddy Ray is great at guitar. Mikey plays bass but he isn't the best at it." Gerard said, and he could see Matt noting that. "Call them up, I think we've really got something here. I'm going to go home and get my things."

And with that, the band formed.

Mikey and Ray were brought into the basement where they gladly set up, and Matt spent about 30 minutes setting up his drums. Ray had been kind enough to bring a mic stand and a microphone so Gerard could properly sing, too, and now the fro-boy was giving Mikey some tips on the bass. Gerard was indirectly made the frontman from there, and he was silently thankful that he had at least some musical experience beforehand so that he didn't make himself look stupid. "Okay so, I think we've all looked over the lyrics, so how about you guys get your parts written down and once your finished we can play," Gerard suggested, and everyone gladly nodded. After hours of redoing small lyrics and parts, doing it all together to see if it sounded right, everyone felt that it was time to record a demo. Gerard actually had a cheap computer system that would work for a decent sounding demo, and once they played it Gerard felt like he had done something. As everyone in the "band" gathered around and listened to it, there was a mutual feeling of hope and determination, and it drove Gerard to want more of this, and more is what he got.

After an exhausting day of recording just one demo, they were all sat at the couch in the basement, talking about the "band" and what could become of it. Gerard was drinking a mocha that he had sneakily laced with blood without anyone seeing while Ray and Matt discussed possible producers if they all decided to go that far. "I think we should write a bit more songs before that happens," Gerard chimed in finally, sitting up and setting his coffee down on his little table. Ray looked to him and nodded quickly, his little afro wobbling a bit. Gerard held back a laugh as Ray spoke. "Yeah! Producers and all that junk will come flying to us once we preform live. We don't have to worry about that right now." Ray said, and everyone nodded in agreement. "What I think we should do is celebrate, what do you guys think?" Mikey said, and everyone went into a short fit of oh-so-manly woops and hollers.   
They all decided to go to some bar-café sort of thing that Gerard had never been to. Gerard noncholantly agreed and went with them, and he had a great time hanging out with friends and what he supposed he could call bandmates for the first time in a very long while. As good as a time he had, he realized how much they all stood out. Ranging from Gerards little spiked-up hair to Mikeys awkward knees, people would stare at them, and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He shrugged, knowing he really needed to get used to it.

They were finally at the bar-café when he tuned into the conversation again and saw Ray pointing at a poster that was on the window talking about how some band was playing there. "Pencey Prep?" Ray questioned, motioning to the midevial font of the poster. "I think I've heard of them, a rock band I think." Matt said, looking into the windows. Gerards gaze followed the drummers and he saw a few dozens of people in the building, about a handful of them seated in front of what seemed to be a stage. "Lets go then! They sound sick," Mikey said, causing Gerard to snort at his brothers use of the word "sick". Granted, they all followed Mikey into the bar-café, and they were greeted by the sound of distorted guitars. It seemed like the band was close to starting. "Do you guys want food? I can pay." Gerard offered, and everyone shook their heads. "No thanks, you get yourself something, Gee. You must be starving from singing that much." Matt said. "I don't need to e-" He started, but was cut off by Mikeys lanky arm jabbing him. "I'm not really hungry, it's all good. Lets find a seat in the front before they're all taken, though." Gerard choked out, and they all quickly agreed and waded past everybody to get to a good seat. Luckily, one table centered in the front was open, and there were just enough chairs for everyone. It felt like as soon as they sat down, the screeching of guitars sounded again, and the room went pitch black.

Then, lights shot up, and everything came into view. The bassist, the guitarist, the keyboardist and most importantly the singer. Gerards gaze locked onto him instantly. His hair was spiked, not as spiked as his, and it was short. He looked younger, but damn was he short. He looked like a complete asshole. Gerard was drawn to him, though, and quite impressed. He was playing guitar and managing to scream his heart out, something Gerard had attempted to do before, but couldn't do for the life of him. He couldn't understand a word he was saying, but there was something about his energy that didn't make that matter.  
Who is this? He thought, and his question was (almost) answered when some drunk chick yelled out "Frankie!", causing "Frankie" to almost lose his shit on stage, but he kept going on until the song ended. Gerard glanced around the table for some closure and his bandmates seemed just as impressed. "Thank you guys for coming out here! I'm Frank Iero and this is Pencey Prep," Frank said, awkwardly waving goodbye. It was a drastic change from the screaming little man he was just a second before. "They seemed cool," Ray said. "We should meet them."

Gerard had no idea why, but he really wanted to meet the asshole-looking singer. "Yeah," Gerard said. "We should."


	4. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard sneaks off for coffee and meets his future producer and future rythym guitarist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **IMPORTANT:**  
>  Some of this will move at a moderately slow or fast pace depending on what is needed writing-wise. I want to make sure this has as much character development as possible, as I plan on this entire story to go through almost _every_ era while following the actual history of My Chemical Romance as best as the story allows to keep it authentic! I do not want to make this a 100 chapter fanfiction (Because honestly, those can be a lot of work to write and to read), so some timeskips will be necessary, but trust me when I say there will be a lot more in depth material once the more juicy stuff comes in (Tours, concerts, groupies, all of that that I hope to be coming in.) This story is meant to give a sort of fictional biography on the band (With a little ship and vampire twist), and I want to keep it as interesting and good as I can! Thank you everyone for taking your time to read this, and stay tuned for a lot more! This is only the beginning.

Gerard wanted to meet the guy, sure. He intrigued him. Even though the sudden attraction may have seemed odd, it was definitely clouded by everyone elses giddyness, especially Ray's. "They're a sorta well known local band," he had explained. "If we befriend them good things will come out of it. Not only will you get more friends, but you could even have some guys to tour with and collab with." Gerard had scoffed at Rays jab at his secluded nature, but deep down he agreed. He wanted this band-his band-to go somewhere, and in order to do that, he had to not be a sulking dick every once in a while. For some reason, everyone had went to the bar instead of attempting to break backstage like Gerard had (admittedly, not so smartly) wanted to do. Through the crowds of people in the bar/café/whatever-the-hell it was place, he couldnt see exactly was going on, but his bandmates were moving through the crowd quickly as if their eyes were set on a certain target up ahead. Gerard halted in his tracks, shaking his head and mumbling something to himself. It was probably alchohol they were after. While it didn't surprise him as they were all moderately young adults, he still decided he wanted no part of it and he turned around and walked away from the anxious space full of people. 

He hoped Penny-Perner...-He sighed to himself and then the name came back-Pencey Prep would still be around by the time his friends were puking their livers out. Personally, he wasnt an alchohol sort of guy, and he definitely wasn't going to order water and look like the saddest man alive. He was going to find some place to get coffee. It didn't take him long to find a little coffee area that was located far off in the restaraunt, and while Gerard didn't notice it, the music had turned from loud and exciting to jazzy and calm. Once he noticed it, he really didn't mind it. As he started to help himself to make a simple iced coffee just the way he liked it. Just above halfway full, and the rest filled with carefully calculated pours of milk. He added creamer, a few pinches of sugar, and stirred, happily sighing to himself like he had successfully finished a complicated work of art. Once stirred, he turned around and unoticably leaned on the counter and sipped. The area wasn't very occupied, a few people were sat at round tables, and from what Gerard sneakily examined, there seemed to be a particular guy and girl on an awkward date, and it made Gerard snicker sympethetically. Who, he thought, would bring a girl on a date into some hybrid café where some screaming rock band could be heard not too far from the chill little coffee place? He shook his head to himself and took another sip. 

He wasn't really the one to be talking-thinking, in this case. He had never been on a proper date, even in his mortal years, girls never showed him any interest for nearly two decades, but boys sure as hell did. At least, once his weight went down. Gerards grip on his coffee tightened a bit, and if he even went a bit harder, the styrophome cup would break and explode. He didn't like to think about his weight. He was skinnier now, but just a few years ago in high school he... He shook his head to himself once more, shakily taking a tiny sip, and the uncomftorable action seemed to catch someones attention, because one of the guys sitting at a table got up and made his way towards Gerard, waving a bit. Gerard raised an eyebrow but quickly forced it down, not wanting to be rude. He didn't know the dude, but he still seemed awfully familiar. He had dirty blonde hair, and tiny strands of it stood up. "Hows it going? You alright?" His slightly high pitched voice spoke, and Gerards face went white. He could've shit himself right there if it weren't for the counter he was forcefully leaning on. 

"Uh-Yeah, I'm all good," Gerard managed to say, making some weird gesture with his hand and taking another sip of his coffee. Geoff fucking Rickly was talking to him. "I mean, you looked a little frustrated over here, I dunno," Geoff said through a chuckle, and Gerard supposed he was catching onto his starstruck reaction. "Theres a lot of drunks in here, I was making sure that I didn't have to get out of here before an angry drunk guy throws coffee into someones face," Geoff explained and Gerard stiffled a smile. "Did-Did that really happen?" Gerard asked, straightening his posture. "Hell if I know honestly. I wouldn't be surprised, thats why I asked," Geoff said, and when Gerard turned to look at him he was fiddling with some stirrer spoons. Normally he would've chuckled at that, but Gerard was still in his starstruck state and he didn't really think on it. "Whats your name?" Geoff asked, turning his attention back to Gerard. "Oh uh-Gerard. Gerard Way." He stated, earning a small smile from Geoff. "You're...Geoff Rickley, right?" Gerard asked, playing it cool, but his stomach was still a bit tight from just having a casual conversation with this guy.  
"I had a sneaking feeling you might know me," Geoff said, playfully nudging gerard. Yeah, if Gerards constant wriggling and stuttering didn't give that away, he'd honestly be concerned. 

"Yeah I've looked up to you guys for a long time-Actually!" Gerard said suddenly, his eyes widening a bit. He got an idea. "If you don't mind-uh-Geoff, my band members would really love t-"Gerard was cut off by a loud noise, and it took a moment for him to register what it was. He could see the familiar fro bobbing in the small crowd of people outside of the coffee area, and the taller man was currently yelling "Geraaard!" Like a mother looking for her child. Gerard squeezed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head and sighing. He could see Geoff looking extremely amused in the corner of his eye, and Gerard didn't know whether he should be glad that the much more well-known singer wasn't looking at him in disgust or if he should be even more embarassed. "Gee!" Shrilled Ray in relief once he found Gerard, who really just wanted to slink into the ground now. Eventually the rest of the band piled in and before that could say anything that would make him jump out of the nearest window, he indirectly told them to shut up by saying "I'd like to introduce you guys to someone."  
Mikey made a snide remark about Gerard finally getting into a relationship, but Gerard ignored it. "This-This is Geoff. We just met." Gerard said and motioned to Geoff, who still looked amused to Gerards relief and embarassment. Everyone sort of looked at him, politely saying hello, while Ray quickly mouthed a "Sorry" to him. He made a "Don't worry about it" gesture, and then it eventually turned into just Mikey and Geoff talking about music together. That left just Ray and Gerard, as Matt had apparantley went home. Said something about going back to his house to get his drum kit and how much a pain in the ass drums were. They stood in a comftorable moment of silence before Ray spoke up. "Do you wanna meet those Pencey Prep guys? Y'know.. You just met the lead singer of a huge Jersey band." Ray said, and while Gerard could see the logic in that, he shrugged. What harm could meeting some other local band members do? "We should see if they'll let us backstage. Maybe you can oo-la-la them with your guitar solos," Gerard joked, and Ray playfully crossed his arms. "You know, I'm not just a toy for your games, Gerard," He said in one of the most stuck-up, awful impresions of a girl Gerard had ever heard, and that both sent them into a mini fit of giggles before he came back to his senses. "Okay, dammit. We're gonna find a way back there."

 

It was easy to get backstage. Too easy. Anxiety inducing, almost. They had basically just said that they were in a band and wanted to meet Pencey Prep, and that was esentially it. Either the security guard didn't give one, or he was somehow fooled that these 20-something year olds with bad haircuts were actually local stars. Either way, they were in. The security guard came into view unexpectedly again, only to peer around the backstage corner and shout "People are here to see ya!" Before he walked off again. After Gerard recovered from the ringing in his ears, the two hesitantly walked forward. Nobody had answered the loud guard, but at the same time, there was no way someone couldn't hear that. By the time they were fully away from all of the techy gear, they spotted a figure shuffling through some more gear. Just one scrawny, little figure is all. Ray and Gerard exchanged confused looks before Ray cleared his throat. This caused the figure to turn its head and reveal itself, and Gerard was intrigued when he noticed that it was Frank. "Oh-Oh shit," Frank said, almost like he was frightened, but that didn't seem to be the case. When he noticed Frank glancing around in dissapointment, he guessed that he didn't even know he was alone until now. "Whats up?" He asked, his surprised look transitioning into a hardened look. He didn't necessarily look angry, but he sure as hell had a resting bitch face.  
"We're in a new band. Starting out, really, and we've been wanting to meet another band thats in the scene, ya know?" Ray went on, basically taking lead of the conversation. Gerard didn't mind, though. If it was, maybe, Matt taking charge of the conversation, he would be a bit more irritated, but this was Ray. He was a magnet to friendship and kindness.

Though, Frank didn't even seem to notice Gerard, which confused him a bit. What the hell was he confused about? His logical side spoke. He was just looking at him and dumbly nodding along to Ray, of course he wouldn't acknowledge him. At least not now. "Yeah, I totally get it," Frank said with a genuine grin. "Kind of a bad way to introduce ourselves, isn't it?" Frank said, his hands motioning to the empty backstage, where his only friends left seemed to be amps and cords, all for him to clean up. "What happened to your bandmates?" Gerard spoke up finally, and Frank finally glanced at him. "I feel like they're around here somewhere. Maybe at the bar. Not sure," Frank said, turning away and carefully wrapping up an amp cord as if he were getting ready to package it. "They've been ditching out on me lately, absoloute dick bags." Frank said, stiffling a laugh out of Frank and Gerard. He looked over again and Gerard noticed the anxiousness behind his eyes. Even though they were clouded by his stern gaze, it was there. "So um-" Frank said, and he was just about to wrap another cable up before he dropped it on the floor and decided to actually go up to them and talk to them like a normal human being. "Whats your guys' names? I'm Frank" He said, and Gerard was suddenly reminded of the girl in the crowd from the show that screamed out "Frankie!" And he bit back a furious chuckle. "The names Ray Toro," Ray said politely and shook Franks hand, and then Frank turned to look at Gerard.

He hadn't gotten this close to him, even at the center front table at the show, and now he was noticing the smallest of things. Like how Franks hair was a bit discolored, showing signs that he had dyed it-Gerard inspected it without trying to look odd-A red color. "Gerard Way," was all he slurred out, taking his hand and shaking it. Frank smiled a bit before stepping back to look at the two. "Whats the band called?" Frank asked, and Gerard quickly slipped out a dumb "Huh?" noise, as if he didn't understand. "Gerard he means like-The band name," Ray explained, and Gerard bit back a growl. He knew that was what he meant. He just lost track of the conversation, is all. "Well, we haven't really come up with one yet. We honestly just formed.. Today, quite honestly," Gerard said, and Frank looked rightfully surprised for a moment. "We recorded a demo for a song Gerards been working on just this morning and it sounded great," Ray added on, and Franks stern eyes softened a bit. "You guys should preform it here," Frank suggested. "Maybe work on another song or two before you preform live, but there are producers and all that shit hanging around here all the time. I can tell the manager of the concerts here that you guys should preform here, but you gotta come up up with a name first. If I just say you guys are the No Name Band then they wont give 2 flying fucks." Frank joked and Gerard smirked, though Ray was amused too, he seemed pretty concentrated on what Frank was suggesting. "Honestly I think that would be amazing. Do you have any ways I can contact you?" Ray asked, and Frank thought on it for a moment. "Well, I don't have a phone, but I do have an email. Hold on, let me find something to write it down with..." Was what Frank said before he turned off to do so, muttering things Gerard couldn't make audible to himself. Ray knew he couldn't say it aloud, so he jabbed Gerards side as if to say "We can do this."

This was the first band he-Or Ray-Had been in that they had to build from rock bottom and to what Gerard one dreamed to be a well known, and dare he wish, impactful band. Gerard pondered on what the band could-No, what it **would** become, and he could tell he was getting a dreamy look in his eyes when Frank came back and stared at him in confusion. The younger boy shrugged it off and handed a crinkled up paper to Ray, exchanging a few gleeful words and goodbyes to eachother before the fro-boy dragged him away from the backstage area to snap him out of his dreamy state. Once Gerard got over his embarassment, he realized he was getting thirsty. Not thirsty for coffee, no, he didn't and couldn't thirst for coffee, as much as his family liked to joke about it. He looked over at Ray and then around the room. He was _thirsty_. He wasn't painfully thirsty though, he could hold it off, but he didn't want it to get bad before he knew it.

"I want to go home," He suddenly blurted out, and Ray looked at him. He dared to open his mouth and ask why, but Gerard gave him a 'look' that told him to stay quiet. Ray didn't know. Ray couldn't know about his vampirism, especially now that he was in a serious band with him. How could they connect when writing lyrics when Ray might be scared out of his mind that the singer could drain every last bit of blood from him? Gerard would never, ever, ever do that, but his more animalistic side became more hungered at that. "Okay Gee, whatever, but we need to find your brother first." Ray said, and Gerard only let out a quiet wheeze. Ray seemed genuinely worried, so he grabbed onto Gerards arm and quickly waded through the gradually shrinking crowd of people, shoving people if absoloutely neccesary. It seemed like an eternity until they arrived at the coffee area, and it dissapointed the both of them. Gerard drew in a sharp breath when Ray let out motherly complaints about Mikey and wandering off. He and Geoff weren't even there anymore. "Take me home, Ray." Gerard said, and it wasn't even his need for blood that was ticking him off, he was _okay_ right now, but he always had to be minutes, or hours, ahead of his urges. It was a personal need, more than anything. "Alright, alright. I hope Geoff didn't spike your coffee."

God, sometimes he wished it was that simple.


	5. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank joins in on the My Chemical Romance fun, has a moment with Gerard, and the singer probably cries himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the brief hiatus! Updates will be more frequent now.

Apparantley Mikey and Geoff had left the bar to hang out, and while Gerard was pissed about it, the anger only lasted about a milisecond when Mikey excitedly announced to him and Ray that he had an idea for a name. He and Geoff were wandering boredly around some shop, and Mikey spotted a book by the name of Ecstasy:Three Tales Of Chemical Romance, and on the spot he came up with the name My Chemical Romance, to which everyone agreed to without hesitation. After that, Ray emailed Iero a short email explaining that they had a name and were working on a few more songs, and they were hooked up with a gig the next week.

2 months in and they were more than halfway done with the album. It wasn't rushed, no, but they were all so determined and passionate that they worked at such a quick speed. Whenever one of the guys would have an issue, they would put it into the words of a song. Gerard liked to think of it as a form of therapy, and he felt that everyone agreed, even though they had never really talked on it as a whole. Today, everyone stay in his basement, instruments in hand, but they weren't exactly playing, more or less talking about the fact that they nearly had enough songs for a proper album. "We really need to start talking about producers" Matt chimed in, tapping quietly on his snare drum. Everyone had brought up a producer at least once before, but the fact that everyone suddenly nodded in unison told Gerard that they _really_ should be looking for a producer. Maybe even a label. He wasn't sure, but he knew he should be sure. "We only need about two songs and then I think it could be a proper album," Muttered Gerard, who had trouble keeping his voice above a monotone level. 

He had been working for the past two days on the album along with the band, and had even been practicing his vocals when nobody was around. He wasn't physically tired, but damn he felt mentally drained. He glanced over at his mini fridge and then back at everyone else, and he silently thanked the God he sometimes doubted that nobody questioned the locked up fridge. "I could call up Geoff to help," Mikey said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Maybe even Frank, I don't know. We have a ton of musical friends." At this, Gerard turned his head and mumbled something even he couldn't make out. "Gerard are you alright?" His brother asked, and he turned his head to see everyone staring at him in confusion and slight concern. "I'm alright, I'm gonna take a nap after this and I'll be fine," He replied, a small smile etching onto his features. He could see Mikey visibly cringe, as he knew what that really meant. "Anyways, I think Geoff may help us out. If I can be honest with you, Franks band is hardly even a band. They never even talk to eachother," Gerard said, and everyone only gave a little shrug or a hum in response. Gerard talked to Geoff often, not too often, and even at that it was over the phone to talk about songwriting or something like that. 

But everyone else hung out with Frank, and Gerard was neutral on that fact. They had only seen eachother a few times after they first met, and while he knew the guy was nice, they simply just didn't talk. "So, I have ideas for two more songs. So far we have these," Gerard pointed at the mini school-whiteboard that his mother had tossed down here years ago. It had the name of songs in no particular order written down on it:

Drowning Lessons  
Skylines and Turnstiles  
Headfirst For Halos  
Demolition Lovers  
Cubicles  
This Is The Best Day Ever  
~~Bring More Knives~~ Our Lady Of Sorrows  
Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Two Of Us And finally,  
Romance  
\------------------  
Two more songs. Just two more, and he and the band would be satisfied. "Two more," he repeated, this time he actually said it out loud. "We need to work on two more songs. Someone call Geoff and try to see if he has any producers or labels that won't whore us out," Gerard said and mostly everyone briefly nodded. He could spot Mikey snickering at his older brothers forced sterness, but he didn't have the patience to say anything. "Is..Anything else you guys want to add? Like, do you all want to go somewhere tonight?" He added on slowly, searching their faces. They all seemed to have something on their mind. He could sense it. They looked at eachother expectantly for a moment and then Ray spoke up. "Gerard, we think we should let another guitarist in," He said before pausing, as if Gerard were about to lash out. That hurt him a little. Were they all mistaking his drainage as hostility? No, he couldn't have that. "I think thats actually a good idea, its interesting-"Gerard said in a much cooler tone, making his way to his couch, where he sat comftorably in the corner. 

 

"You guys know I'm not, like, your boss or anything, right?" Gerard said. He usually wasn't the type for subtlty. If he knew something was wrong, he would eventually say something about it, even if it wasn't a good idea. "Of course we do," Matt said, shooting Gerard a friendly grin. "We're all just kind of concerned for your sleeping schedule. You seem sort of woozy is all." Ray added, and Gerard just noticed now the guitarists hesitant look. He could feel Mikeys gaze burning onto him, but he didn't turn to face his brother. He knew that Gerard had been on and off blood for the past few days, and that was truly the reason he seemed off. "I'm a workaholic," Was all that came out of Gerards mouth, and he shrugged, a half smile etching his face. While the tension in the room lingered for a few seconds, everyone seemed to calm down, and even Rays concerned look turned into a genuine smile. "So, who were you guys thinking?" Gerard said, as he assumed that the others talked about this beforehand. He wasn't sure whether he should be angry or neutral about that. "Well-Pencey Prep actually broke up a few days ago," Mikey started, and Gerard got an odd, hot feeling in his stomach. Damn, he was really out of the loop. "You want Neil Sabatino to join the band?" Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow. Mikey shook his head quickly in response, and he opened his mouth to speak before Matt cut him off again. "We were thinking Frank," He explained, and Gerards mouth went into an "o" shape. He was unsure of that, but he slowly nodded under pressure. Though, everyones face seemed to light up, and thats all Gerard really needed to see.  
A couple hours after that, Ray emailed Frank and told him to come to Gerards house for practice, but Gerard quickly mumbled something in the background about letting him get adjusted to the band. Matt had been standing up for over ten minutes, his shoulder holding up the phone that was engraved into the basement wall, and he was quickly scribbling into one of Gerards unused notebooks. After multiple confused glances from Gerard, Matt finally looked at him and mouthed the word "Geoff" and then went back to writing. Gerard sat on the couch, staring up at the ceiling for no particular reason, and essentially doing nothing. Ray was seated next to him, playing random scales and harmonics, while Mikey layed on the floor, strumming at his bass' strings just as boredly.

"Are we going to do anything productive?" Mikey finally muttered out, rubbing underneath his eyes. He looked to everyone else and they all just shrugged or let out a hum in acknowledgement. It had been a bit since Ray emailed Frank, and Gerard began to wonder if the younger male decided to blow them off. As Gerard was slowly coming to that conclusion, he heard a faint knock from upstairs, causing him to stir. He saw Mikey stop strumming and look at him with a blank stare. "I'll get it," Gerard said, pulling himself to his feet.  
As he trotted up the stairs, he started to think about whether Frank was really fit for the band. He'd seen the guy play at shows, and he was one hell of a player. He'd never seen someone play guitar that violently. Gerard smiled faintly at the thought, maybe the band really did need something to spice it up, and even though he didn't know him well, Frank just may be able to do that.

Gerard opened the door, and was greeted by Frank. His hair was a lot different from the last time he'd seen him (granted, that was weeks ago). It was permed and in dreadlocks. He had a guitar slung over his shoulder and an amp in one hand. "Oh-Gerard, hey!" He said, his voice high pitched. Gerard was just staring at his hair, and he did so for a few more seconds, grinning to surpress his laugh. "Hey man, everyones downstairs. I can carry that amp if you want." He offered, but the other only shook his head. "No thank you." He said, sharing a grin just like Gerards, but it was more genuine. 

 

"Cool," was all he responded with, and he proceeded to show the new guitarist down to the basement. Everyone greeted him as soon as he came down, and Mikey got up to help him with his gear. Gerard glanced over at Matt and noticed he wasn't on the phone anymore, and his immedeate thought was what he had said to Geoff. Matt noticed his glances, and slowly stood up. "Now that Franks here, I have a little something to say," He said, as if telepathically reading Gerards mind. "I was talking to Geoff about labels and all that fun shit, and he said that he'd be able to record our album! Isn't that fucking cool?" He explained, a bright look on his face all throughout his little speech. Everyone, including Gerard, had a short session of whoops and hollers. Geoff Rickley! What a man. "You guys know Geoff? Like, from Thursday?" Frank said suddenly, and while he seemed excited, Gerard could almost smell the range of emotions he had.  
"Yeah" Was all Mikey said, adjusting his glasses. Frank looked at Gerard for a milisecond before looking to Matt and smiling. "Thats fucking great-Wait," He paused. "Are you guys almost done with the album?" He asked, taking his guitar off his back. "Almost." Chimed in Gerard, and he motioned to his computer and the notes that surrounded it on the desk. "We want to work on two more songs and then were done." 

Frank simply nodded. "Can I uh," He looked around the basement. "Can I see what you guys are working on?" He asked, and at that Ray's face lit up. "Of course! We actually have this one song I think me and you should really work on together.." Ray said, walking over to Gerard's desk and reading off some notes. At this point, Gerard was zoned out. He was standing by the end of the stairs, just sort of blinking at nothing. He would notice Frank glance over at him every now and then, and while he didn't even bother to listen to their conversation, he felt self concious. What if he was judging his writing? Since when did he care about that? His eyes furrowed and he huffed, turning around and making his way upstairs. He needed coffee. Maybe some blood. But he was going to distract himself with coffee to keep himself from being an asshole.

It was the crack of dusk, and Gerard was quite literally laying on the floor. Behind him Ray and Frank sat on his worn out couch, talking quietly to eachother. Mikey had gone upstairs for a TV break, and Matt had managed to sneak out a long time beforehand. Ray and Frank were working on a song he had simply titled "Monroeville" for the time being, as Ray wanted the two to have unique guitar parts. Gerard was lost in a moment of reminisce over the songs name, which was inspired by one of his all-time favorite movies, Dawn Of The Dead. He remembered watching movies like that with Mikey when he was younger, and he remembered how that inspired his fascination with the afterlife. Gerard turned to face Frank and Ray, completely ignoring the fact that he was lying on the floor, ironically looking just as dead as a zombie from the movie, and he finally listened on to their conversation.  
"I was thinking I could just do this," Ray explained, and quickly strummed a few times on his guitar. "Meanwhile you could do something like-" He paused, playing something else on one specific string. Frank nodded, and Gerard caught him looking over at him. Damn, this guy liked to stare! Or, maybe, it was the fact that he was on the floor. "Yeah, that sounds good! You wanna try it out?" He said, a faint smile on his face. Ray nodded, and they both started to play their parts. Admittedly they were beautiful ("Angelic" according to Gerards mind), and he couldn't help but stare at the two in awe. Once they finished the two started to laugh and say "That was good!", and Ray finally acknowledged Gerard. 

"Hey, make yourself useful Arthur," Ray said, jokingly poking his leg with his foot. Gerard cringed at the use of his middle name, but only let out a grunt in response. "Could you sing along to what we're playing?" Ray said as Gerard started to sit up, propping himself up with his elbows. "Sure," Was all he responded with, and he reached for the notebook that Ray was handing him. "I-Uh-I made a few changes," Frank suddenly blurted, but recovered from it quickly by making his voice sound calmer. "I hope you don't mind."  
At this Gerard was baffled, and after contemplating whether he was actually okay with it, he shrugged and smiled. "Nah, its fine." He said, taking the notebook and reading over the lyrics. They actually weren't bad, though he only changed a few things. "What part?" He asked, his attention turning back to the two. "Second verse and the little bit after that" Ray pointed out, making a odd gesture with his hands toward the lyrics. Gerard nodded, taking a second to look at those lyrics. He could see that Frank made minor changes here, and he could see he slyly added the lyric "Not knowing you changed from just one bite". Gerard looked and smirked at the male knowingly, but only got a confused look back, and he saw him get noticeably flushed. Maybe he didn't notice that he was looking at the lyric. 

"Hm," was all Gerard hummed out, and on Ray's que, he started to sing. It was raw and unfiltered, but everything fit together immedeately. He got lost in his own world for those few moments of singing, but once they finished, he slowly put the notebook down. "You guys are perfect," Gerard complimented, causing Frank to smile dumbly and Ray to overexaggerate a flattered look. "We're going places." Gerard continued on, standing up. He didn't expect to be this grateful on the first day of Frank being here, but he damn well was. This is what he wanted. He wanted a band that would make a change, and right now... He had a gut feeling. One that was so deep it could be mistaken for hunger. But he was so proud already. "This bands a special one." Frank suddenly said after hours of being quiet towards him, but nontheless, Gerard grinned back at him. 

30 minutes later, everyone that was left started to pack up. Mikey had went downstairs just to tell Gerard to keep his things in the basement, and then went back up to watch TV. Ray was out the door pretty quickly, saying goodbyes to everyone, including Gerard's mom, who was watching TV with Mikey. Frank was packing up and Gerard, who was seated in a chair by his desk, could spot him lingering. He didn't know why, but all he knew was that he needed a fix of blood soon and him being around wasn't helping. His senses were heightened, and he was staring at Frank like a owl to a mouse. "Do you need help?" He finally asked, running a hand through his hair, which was starting to grow out. "Oh, no, I was just looking at all the drawings on the wall." Frank said admittedly, and Gerards face started to turn a cherry blossom pink. He had somehow forgotten about his art displayed on the walls. "Did you draw all of this?" Frank asked, looking pretty impressed. Gerard studied his features, his jaw clenching as he noticed more about the man. He had a sharper jawline than he did, and the neck below that really stood out to him at the moment. He wasn't sure if he found the dude attractive or he just wanted to drink his blood. "I mean-Yeah, all mine." Gerard replied, shrugging it off. "I was a comic artist before all of this, but that obviously didn't go anywhere." He joked, and Frank adjusted the strap on his guitar case. "Must be nice. You don't have to pay shit to make album art, you can just do it yourself." He said, and the two exchanged a laugh. He had actually never thought of that before, making album art. Maybe he could do that for this record.

"Well, uh, I should get going. See ya Gerard." He said, waving a little before picking up his amp. Gerard raised his hand and waved back before he turned to his computer, mindlessly checking his emails. He noticed that some chick had managed to get his email, and he immedeately considered changing it, but instead he just said she got the wrong persons email. Nice. First groupie, and turned down, too! He got up and walked to his mini-fridge, undoing the lock and taking out a IV bag. He sighed and eyed the red fluid sloshing around in it and shook his head to himself. Maybe he'd just drink it raw tonight. For some reason, as he was left alone in the room after the whole day, he lost the motivation to use the human decency he still had to mix it with a drink. Hell, maybe even some alchohol. As he undid one of the heads of the tubes and drank straight from it like a madman, he thought to himself how he would survive like this if the band ever got the oppritunity to tour. What if his bandmates found him like this, kneeling by a minifridge and drinking human fluids straight from a IV tube?

The more he thought about this, the faster and rougher he started to drink. Blood started to escape from the corner of his mouth onto his pants, but he couldn't care less. He felt tears start to form at the corners of his eyes. He couldn't do this. The tears fell more. He hadn't cried in years, but now he couldn't stop. He didn't even notice that the bag was now empty, and that blood was staining his face. At this point he was sobbing, and he couldn't stop. Usually Mikey would hear him when he got like this, but he never came down to check on him. Nobody did. Nobody came, and he was left alone a disgusting mess for the rest of the night.

"I'm sorry." He finally spat out to nobody. He felt so sorry. So sorry for himself, so sorry for his brother, his mother, and his bandmates. He was an absoloute mess, and he knew that that wouldn't change.


End file.
